


ratcatcher express

by Duskglass



Series: harry potter & the ridiculous fix-its [6]
Category: Harry Potter (books)
Genre: (basically 'what if remus caught wormtail on the train'), (he was right there!! he just needed to wake up & see scabbers & everything would have gone better), (remus lupin is a sarcastic disaster man & you can't change my mind), Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It, Gen, Hogwarts Express, M/M, PoA AU, Post-Azkaban, Pre-Relationship, Remus POV, Sirius & Remus live, Wolfstar Bingo 2020, animagi, do not repost to other sites/apps, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duskglass/pseuds/Duskglass
Summary: in which Remus Lupin has an unexpected reunion with a presumed-dead schoolfriend on the way to his new job, and Peter Pettigrew never gets the chance to escape.((or: harry has a very eventful train ride to school, followed by the most normal year ever))
Relationships: Harry & Ron & Hermione, Remus & Harry, Remus/Sirius
Series: harry potter & the ridiculous fix-its [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994197
Comments: 9
Kudos: 190
Collections: Wolfstar Bingo 2020





	ratcatcher express

**Author's Note:**

> wolfstar bingo prompt fill: 'taking the Hogwarts Express'    
>  (all works in this series are standalones! also, by reading this fic, you renounce jkr & her disgusting transphobic remarks)    
> 

When Remus Lupin shows up at Platform 9¾ on the first of September, barely a month after the news broke that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, he thinks that there's a perverse sort of irony to this-- riding the train exactly as he had all those years ago, only now all his friends are dead and he's horribly alone, just him and decades-old ghosts and the ever-present tidal pull of the moon.

Albus Dumbledore had his reasons for suggesting it, of course, apart from the practical logistics of having him reach the school in time for the start of term-- there was a tacit understanding between them when Remus had accepted the free ticket, that someone should be on hand in case Sirius Black manages to try something. He doesn't think Sirius _could_ do anything to the Express, but Sirius has always had a talent for pulling off the most unexpected stunts with seemingly effortless grace... and seeing as he's already managed an unprecedented prison break, Remus can't in good conscience rule out any possibility.

Remus arrives early, before anyone else, and treks down the usual path to the compartment at the very end of the train-- the same compartment that had once been _theirs_ , every single ride (except the very first, but they hadn't met yet so that one doesn't count). The train is timeless, everything from the light fixtures to the upholstery to the panelling on the walls to the way the compartment door squeaks as he slides it open...

He puts his travelling case up onto the luggage rack and takes his usual seat by the window (if he can still call it _his usual_ when it's been well over a decade since the last time he was here); he tugs his cloak around himself and flips the collar up to keep out the chill. He's exhausted and sore from the last moon-- it had been a bad one, of course, with his escape all over the papers-- and sleep soon claims him.

Sirius stalks his dreams, young and bright and laughing, full of life and loyalty and love-- Sirius who had always been the first to leap up in defence of his friends, Sirius who had hated everything about his birth family and the entire Pureblood philosophy. Remus tries to hold him but he melts away like smoke; Remus cries out after him and wonders whether it might have made a difference if he'd only been honest with Sirius all those years ago, if he'd dared to tell Sirius how he really felt.

Maybe honesty would have held them all together-- or at the very least, maybe Remus would have all the missing pieces. Maybe he would understand _why_ \-- for he has never understood why, or how, and _this_ will be the thing that consumes him, devours him alive...

He dreams that he is the Wolf, and he's chasing them through the trees, Stag and Rat and Dog. This was the game they played, young and wild and free. He breaks into a clearing, and the Stag lies broken and bloody on the Potters' hideous brightly-coloured rug (Sirius had bought that rug for James as a joking 'housewarming gift' when they'd moved into the cottage in Godric's Hollow, and of course the Potters had kept it as this was the only way to win against Sirius in the game of prank-gifts). The Dog lunges for the Rat, but the Rat slips away (this, too, was an old game, and Peter was always the hardest to catch) and the Dog raises his head in a long mournful howl, a call for Pack, a cry for help, and Remus feels like he's sinking into thick mud, can't move, can't reach them in time--

There's a commotion in the compartment around him: teenagers' shouts and a rat's panicked squeaking and a small flash of grey. Remus moves before he has even come properly awake; he lunges forward instinctively and catches the small writhing creature in his hand. The voices cut off abruptly, leaving only the rat's frenzied squeals against the dull background noise of the Express rattling along its tracks.

'Merlin's saggy left nut,' he swears in a voice that is little more than a croak, rusty from sleep and worn down by the Wolf's screaming over the recent moon-- 'What the _buggering fuck_ are you doing here, Peter?'

Then he notices the three teenagers staring at him in varying degrees of shock and alarm, and one cat/kneazle hybrid looking on with what appears to be smug satisfaction (though Remus thinks that cats always look a bit like that so he's not entirely sure he's reading the creature correctly). And one of the teenagers, who looks nearly identical to a young James with his brown skin and messy hair, only with his mother's startlingly green eyes behind crooked round-framed glasses-- he's seeing _Harry_ for the first time in twelve years, and the first impression he's given is not the cool first lesson he'd planned for his third-years, but rather him swearing at a rat like a madman. _Well, shit_.

To make matters worse, Peter (still clutched securely in his hand) promptly wets himself out of fright, giving Remus what's probably the absolute worst nice-to-see-you-again greeting in the entire history of reunions between old school mates: an unpleasantly warm trickle of rat piss leaking down his arm and soaking into the sleeve of his best (least-patchy) set of robes. _Bloody fucking brilliant_.

This prompts the lanky redhead to square his shoulders and address him-- 'I'd like my rat back now, sir,' the boy says, polite but firm. 'He's been ill, and you're scaring him.'

Remus glances from Peter to the redhead. 'He's not a rat.'

The redhead stares back incredulously, clearly of the opinion that Remus is quite insane-- which, honestly, fair. Harry, now stood firmly at his friend's side, frowns. 'I think one of us would have noticed by now if Scabbers wasn't a rat,' he says frankly.

On the floor, the cat yowls in protest, his bushy tail swishing back and forth. Remus quirks an eyebrow. 'I wouldn't be so sure about that, Harry,' he says dryly. 'Your cat seems to have worked it out.'

The trio all look down at the cat, who meows imperiously. 'You mean Crookshanks?' asks the bushy-haired black girl, before peering back up at Remus. 'How do you mean? What's wrong with Scabbers, and how would _Crookshanks_ know?'

'I don't know if you're aware, as it's not always easy to tell with hybrids, but he's part kneazle; they're well known to be highly intelligent and loyal to those who have earned their affections, and are excellent at detecting untrustworthy people.' Crookshanks's eyes narrow in a slow blink, and he lets out a rusty-sounding purr. Remus smiles grimly. 'And I can definitively prove to you that Peter is not a rat.'

Peter squeals in fright, realising that his cover (who or what is he so keen on hiding from, anyway?) is about to be blown wide open. Remus silently flicks sealing spells towards the door and window, not willing to allow Peter any chance of slipping away again-- only the girl seems to notice the silent spells, her eyebrows going up and her hand slipping into her own pocket to clutch her wand, watching Remus carefully as he draws his own out.

'Don't hurt him!' the redhead blurts. 'Please, Mr Lupin... he's just my pet rat, Scabbers; he's been in my family for _ages_ and he's never done anything wrong.'

'I don't intend to hurt him, or any of you,' Remus says, with a degree of calm he definitely does not feel (it's as though the whole world has been knocked off-kilter, or perhaps that's just the rocking of the train). 'The spell I will be using-- it's called the Homorphus Charm-- it merely forces a transfigured or disguised person back into their original form. If I am wrong and this is indeed an ordinary rat, the spell will have no effect on him whatsoever.' Remus pauses while the three teenagers exchange a glance, and then says, 'If you prefer, I will hold off until we have reached the school, and Professor McGonagall can perform the spell. However, I believe it may be imperative to understand what motives he had for allowing all his family and friends to believe he had been brutally murdered...' Remus takes a deep breath, and meets those all-too-familiar green eyes. 'You should know... this may be of particular importance to you, Harry. I know you don't remember me, or have any reason to trust me, but I believe you have a _right_ to know what happened, to witness this for yourself. And I can't guarantee that you'll get the chance, if we wait.'

There's another pause, in which the redheaded boy still looks highly sceptical, but both he and the bushy-haired girl remain silent, looking to Harry first. Harry frowns, and then says, 'What's this got to do with me? I don't know anyone called Peter-- and how d'you mean, everyone thought he'd been murdered? Wouldn't there have been a body, or... an investigation or anything, some sort of proof?'

'All excellent questions, Harry.' Remus looks down at his hands, at the grey rat he'd know anywhere, even after all this time. 'I promise you I will explain all of this in greater detail later, but for the moment... the important point is that in those days, at the end of the war against Voldemort--' (the other two flinch at the name, but Remus notes with a small burst of pride that Harry does not) '--many cases were decided with minimal proof, particularly when they appeared obvious. Peter Pettigrew's 'death' was considered an open and shut case-- while no body was found, he appeared to have died in a violent explosion following a duel with Sir-- with a wizard of superior skill, and there were no magical traces to indicate that he might have apparated or used a portkey, methods that would appear to the muggle witnesses as though he had vanished in the midst of the explosion. However...' Remus holds up the rat, positioning him so that his right front paw is clearly visible to the students. 'Peter Pettigrew had previously undergone the animagus ritual, allowing him to transform into a rat at will, and the biggest bit of him they ever found was a single finger.'

'He... might've got in a fight with another rat, or a cat or dog,' the redheaded boy suggests, though he sounds as though he's beginning to doubt himself. 'And anyway, I thought animagi had to register with the Ministry...?'

'That is the law, yes,' says Remus. 'Very few people knew that Peter had become one in secret-- he was not known to be especially talented in school, but people always underestimated him.' _Including us, apparently_. 'The animagus's ability to transfigure into an animal at will leaves no magical trace, so if he had cut off his own finger and transformed, it would appear to everyone as though he had been incinerated in the blast.'

Harry considers this, and then asks, 'Why would anyone go to all that trouble to fake their death, and then pretend to be a rat for... however long he's been with Ron's family?'

'Twelve years,' says Remus. 'And that is what I hope to find out by performing the Homorphus Charm and questioning him directly.' He pauses, regarding Harry carefully. 'It may have something to do with your parents, though. You see, Peter's last act before his presumed 'death' was to accuse another of our oldest and closest friends of betraying Lily and James to Voldemort-- and _that_ man was subsequently convicted of murdering Peter and a number of Muggles who were also within the blast radius. He was sentenced, without trial, to life in Azkaban.'

The bushy-haired girl, who has been thoughtfully quiet throughout Remus's explanation until now, straightens up with an outraged look on her face. 'What-- _without trial_? But that _can't_ be legal, can it?'

'Technically, no, but in the aftermath of Voldemort's fall a lot of cases were pushed through without due process.'

'But that's absolutely barbaric!' she exclaims. 'And you're saying that the man they convicted might be innocent after all, if this Peter Pettigrew does turn out to be alive?'

 _God, fuck, if only_ , Remus thinks to himself-- it's never sat right with him, that Sirius could have betrayed his best friend and adoptive brother, that he would have condemned the infant godson whom he'd adored to die... or that Sirius would ever have turned to Voldemort when he'd despised his birth family and everything they stood for-- oh, how Remus _wants_ to believe they were wrong about him, as painful as it would be to learn that Sirius had suffered those twelve years in Azkaban for a crime he didn't even commit... 

'...It is too early to draw any conclusions,' Remus says carefully. 'But Peter being alive would certainly cast a lot of doubt upon the validity of the witness statements, and therefore the case as a whole.'

'Then you should definitely do it,' says Harry, without hesitation. 'That spell, I mean. Hermione's right; if the wrong person was accused of a crime without any real proof or a fair trial then we've got to make sure the truth is known.'

Remus feels a tightness in his chest, his eyes burning-- both of them are watching him resolutely, and even Ron gives a grim-faced nod, pale beneath his freckles. Remus clears his throat. 'Right, then... I suggest you stand back.'

He pauses to black out the windows and casts a _muffliato_ around them (just in case any other students happen to wander down to this end of the train) and then he casts the Homorphus Charm and lets go of the rat in the same fluid motion-- a brilliant blue-white light engulfs Peter's small writhing body. He watches intently as the spell takes effect, exactly as he'd known it would-- the rat stretches and distorts, arms and legs lengthening and filling out like a grotesque parody of those long skinny balloons that Muggles shape into animals for small children at fairs-- the animagus transformation is painless under ordinary circumstances, but Remus has read that forcibly changing one back is every bit as unpleasant as it appears, and he can't say he's sorry.

The spell-light fades, revealing a short man with wispy fair hair (gone noticeably thin on top and now more of a yellowish dishwater grey than its former straw-blond) and watery pale blue eyes and a small pointed nose. Peter Pettigrew has certainly seen better days; he's thinner than Remus has ever seen him, his skin sallow and saggy and dotted with open sores where he'd been picking or chewing at it, while his bloodshot eyes are ringed with dark shadows and have pronounced bags beneath them. His ratty unwashed robes hang off him, and he reeks of stale fear-sweat, the smell far stronger now that there's more of him to give it off.

Ron has gone distinctly greenish and looks as though he might throw up, while Hermione has backed away towards the door, one hand clasped over her nose and mouth and the other clutching at her wand. Harry's expression is inscrutable in a way neither James nor Lily ever were. Remus shifts slightly towards the middle of the compartment, placing himself between Peter and the students, while Crookshanks winds protectively around his ankles.

'Hullo, Peter,' Remus says, Very Calmly, as though Peter's sudden reappearance has been a perfectly ordinary everyday sort of event and not the earth shattering revelation it actually is. 'You're in a rather sorry state, aren't you-- though, I must add, far better off than I ever expected to find you, seeing as you were supposed to have been blown up.' 

Peter cringes, his eyes darting around the compartment as though in search of an escape route, frequently flicking back to Remus's wand, which is still trained on his chest. 'It's-- it's not what it sounds like,' he whines. 'Remus, please, my old friend--'

'You know, I mourned you, Peter,' Remus says, his voice still light but a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. 'For _twelve years_ , I believed you had been brutally murdered, and with every passing anniversary I mourned your death. I want you to understand this, before you attempt to invoke our past friendship-- your poor mother _wasted away and died_ , consumed by her grief, and there was never any consolation for her, nor for me. Do not presume to ask me for _mercy_ , not when you hid yourself away, and left us to suffer alone.'

Peter's gaze darts everywhere but at Remus, and he doesn't even have the decency to look properly sorry. 'Y-you don't understand, Remus, I was _scared_ \-- it was Black, he betrayed Lily and James, and he tried to _kill_ me--'

'Yes, I am familiar with the story we were all told,' Remus says impatiently. 'But Sirius was sent to Azkaban, a fortress which no one has ever escaped from before, and you must have known we would have helped protect you-- unless you knew of some reason why we wouldn't.' Remus stares pointedly at Peter, who squirms under the scrutiny. 'So, tell me-- what was it you were _really_ hiding from all those years?'

'I d-- don't know what you're talking about,' Peter mumbles hastily. 

'Why did you frame Sirius Black for your murder? Why fake your own death?' Remus spreads his hands. 'Let us assume for the moment that Sirius had in fact killed those twelve Muggles, beyond any reasonable doubt and with clear watertight evidence to tie him to the crime. If that were the case, then Sirius would still have been sentenced to life in Azkaban _regardless_ of your own fate-- there would have been no reason for the ruse, for all the pointless and easily avoidable pain and suffering your little disappearing act caused.' Remus pauses for effect. 'Therefore... I am afraid that I must conclude there was some ulterior motive behind this deception of yours.' 

Peter gapes at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 'You-- you can't be saying that-- you can't really think that _I_ \--'

'The problem is, Peter, you have not behaved like an innocent man. You disguised yourself as a pet rat and lived in hiding for twelve years, taking advantage of the hospitality of a family that had so very little to spare.' Remus nods to Ron, whose patched and well-worn clothes (a little too short at the wrist and ankle) tell an all-too-familiar story. 'And you have yet to give me any reasonable explanation for these disreputable actions.' 

Peter's eyes are filled with terror, and Remus can almost see the thoughts processing behind his forehead like rusty clockwork as he struggles to piece together an excuse (he used to be cleverer, quicker, but twelve years as a rat can't have done his mental acuity any favours). There isn't a shred of honour or integrity left in this cringing wreck of a man, this snivelling creature that Remus had once called his _friend_ \-- he feels no pity for Peter Pettigrew now, nothing but revulsion at the thing he had reduced himself to. Remus can smell the lies and the fear rolling off of Peter's sweaty sallow skin; Remus understands with a clarity he has not felt in years that _this_ Peter will do anything to save himself without a thought for anyone else.

'Do you know, your mother kept your wand-- cherished it, along with the medal they awarded you-- and never let anyone touch it. I wonder what that wand would reveal under Priori Incantatem?' Remus sees Peter's eyes go very wide, and Remus smiles grimly to himself. _Check and mate_. 'The severing spell used on your finger, naturally... and perhaps a wide-area blasting curse...'

'You don't _understand_ ,' Peter blurts out, wild-eyed. 'I didn't have a choice-- I didn't _mean_ for all those Muggles to die; it wasn't _my_ fault they got in the way! I _had_ to stop Black; he as good as killed Lily and James--'

'Is that so,' Remus says softly. 'Are you _quite sure_ about that, Peter?'

'He was their secret-keeper, Remus, you _must_ have known he was! They always were like brothers, those two; James wouldn't have used anyone else! And _Black_ showed his true colours in the end; he proved that he was never to be trusted with an important secret like that--' Peter's face twists into an ugly expression, a hint of a smirk around his small mouth. 'You of all people should know that-- _shouldn't_ you, _Moony_?'

Remus steps forward with a snarl; he'd _known_ it was _never fucking right_ and Peter is playing him now just as he had evidently done back _then_ and--

'Er, Professor Lupin?' Harry's voice comes from behind his shoulder, and Remus quickly stops and steps back again, Peter cringing but untouched at his feet. He'd quite forgot that he wasn't alone. When he glances back, Harry is looking down at his peeling trainers. 'What does that mean-- that Sirius Black and my dad were--'

'Brothers?' Remus pauses, wondering how much he ought to say-- and then figures _to hell with it_. 'They were brothers, yes,' he explains softly. 'Brothers in all but blood. Sirius... his family weren't good people. He ran away from home when he was sixteen, and your grandparents took him in, Harry.' Remus lifts his chin resolutely. 'When I knew him, Sirius Black was one of the bravest and most loyal friends I ever had-- and very kind, though that wasn't always easy to see. For twelve years... I struggled to make sense of it. _Couldn't_ make sense of it, not when he was--'

'He betrayed you!' Peter interrupts shrilly. ' _You_ were the _first_ one he ever betrayed, when he told Sniv--'

'Oh come off it,' Remus says coldly, flicking a Silencing spell at Peter. ' _That_ was just a prank, and it never had anything to do with you in the first place so it's not for you to decide-- nor was it a _fucking betrayal_ when it was _my_ idea as much as his.' Remus glances at Harry again. '...Erm, sorry about that.' He clears his throat awkwardly. 'The point I'm trying to make, Harry, is that it was shockingly out of character for Sirius to betray your parents-- and that, while everyone from myself to Dumbledore _believed_ that Sirius had been their secret-keeper at the time, neither of us were actually present when the spell was cast. And I for one would very much like to hear what Sirius himself has to say on the matter.'

'Well _obviously_ ,' Hermione cuts in. 'Since this Sirius Black evidently never got a trial in the first place, a chance to share his side of the story would be the very _least_ we owe him now.' She folds her arms, a fierce scowl across her face. 'Honestly, though, this whole scenario is a hideous mockery of a proper judicial system! Even if someone _is_ guilty of a horrible crime like killing a whole street full of people, they _still_ deserve to have their case heard before an unbiased court.'

Harry nods in agreement (and Remus thinks this girl will be even _more_ righteously outraged when she hears about how the Wizengamot actually works-- she reminds him of Lily in that way, and their world certainly needs more people like her). Harry jerks his chin towards Peter. 'And anyway-- _he's_ just admitted to framing Black for thirteen murders. At this point, I'd trust Black's word over his-- and I don't reckon my mum and dad would've wanted one of their friends to be sentenced without a fair trial, even if he were guilty.'

Remus smiles, a little of the tension he's lived with for over a decade bleeding from his shoulders. He feels utterly spent, but also as though a great weight has been lifted from him. 'Thank you, Harry. They would be very proud of you for that.'

'I just want what's right,' Harry says with a shrug, though he looks very pleased at the praise. He turns back to Peter again-- Peter had broken down into heaving (but silent) sobs upon hearing Harry voice his support for Sirius, and Harry evidently finds the sight quite disturbing. 'Er... what will you do with him?'

'Turn him over to the Ministry, I suppose,' Remus answers. 'In addition to his confession to the Muggle killings, I am sure that they will be quite interested to hear of the capture of an illegal animagus.' Remus levels his own gaze at Peter, to make sure he understands too. 'The sentence for failing to register is up to a full year in Azkaban-- or longer, if the ability has been used to commit other crimes.'

Peter tries to protest, but the silencing spell is still in effect and the muscles of his throat work uselessly in his futile attempts to speak through the spell. Remus is entirely sick of listening to the little piece-of-shit bastard's pathetic snivelling, and doesn't lift the spell-- at his side, Harry looks grimly determined, while Hermione has whipped out a small pocket notebook and a biro and is rapidly jotting down notes of some sort with feverish intensity. Ron has collapsed to one of the seats, and watches Peter with the sort of disgusted horror that suggests he would really have preferred to be anywhere else but can't tear his eyes away.

'I let him sleep in my _bed_ ,' Ron says with utmost revulsion. 'Bloody hell, he's seen me _starkers_ \-- watched me change every day like some sort of _pervert_ \--'

Remus considers pointing out that this particular allegation is almost definitively unfair (as he knows for a fact that animagi physically cannot experience arousal or engage in sexual behaviours while transformed, and in any case Peter had always been straight as an arrow) but instead he lets Peter squirm for a moment, and then finally takes pity on all of them and hits Peter with a Stunner. 'He's only unconscious,' Remus explains for the students' benefit, and then he crouches down next to the limp form, summoning his travelling case down from the luggage rack with an idle wave of his hand. 'I must place a warding spell over him, to ensure that he cannot transform back into a rat and escape again.'

'You can do that?' asks Hermione, her eyes wide as she edges closer, her pen poised at the ready. 'What sort of spell? How does it work?'

Remus pulls a bottle of ink and an old quill from his case, the latter of which he transfigures into a round-tipped brush. 'Have any of you decided to take Ancient Runes this year?' he asks-- Hermione nods enthusiastically, while Harry shakes his head and Ron simply looks bewildered; Remus opens the ink bottle and continues, 'You won't get to this sort of thing in your first year-- and likely not in any depth until the NEWT level course, if I recall correctly-- but many wards and enchantments utilise runic elements as spell-anchors.' He paints a sigil onto one of Peter's hands in quick precise strokes, then looks up at the trio again. 'Do any of you know why a strong anchoring element is important to creating properly functioning wards?'

Hermione frowns thoughtfully. 'That's because most spells rely on the caster as an anchor, right...? So if you wanted a spell to stay in place without actively maintaining it yourself, you'd need something else to keep it stable.'

'Correct,' Remus says with a smile (and Hermione beams with pride at the praise). 'The Animagus transformation is very difficult to detect or block, as the ritual burns a spell-anchor directly _within_ the caster's own magical core-- that is, the source of their ability to interface with ambient magical energy. This is also, incidentally, why the Animagus spell is so dangerous and those who attempt it are closely monitored; if it goes wrong it can cause severe and irreversible damage to the caster's core.'

'So this spell you're doing will block his animagus ability?' Hermione pauses, biting her lip. 'Does that mean it blocks him from using _all_ magic? Can a warding spell do that?'

'Not that I know of,' says Remus. 'There are some creatures-- including the Azkaban guards-- and enchantments or potions that can dampen our power, but not cut it off all together.' He finishes tracing the last of the sigils onto Peter's forehead, then sits back on his heels and activates the ward with a click of his fingers, causing all the marks to flare with a blue-white glow. 'This spell will force him to stay in his current form-- if he attempts to shift, it will immediately push him back, rather like a passive iteration of the Homorphus Charm.'

Hermione nods and continues taking notes with fiery passion in her eyes-- Remus gets the feeling that she won't be satisfied to wait years to get to this type of spellwork in class, and will be doing a lot of personal study on the subject.

Her fascination reminds Remus of nothing so much as watching Sirius on a hyperfixation, the way his mind would race ahead by at least half a dozen steps and he'd resurface moments later with some brilliant new technique and no sign of how he arrived there--

Remus swallows and looks away, taking a deep breath-- he conjures cords around Peter's wrists and ankles just for good measure, and then he looks up at Harry. 'Are you feeling all right?'

'Er-- yeah, I think so,' Harry says, and there's so much Remus wants to say, to apologise for not being there and never writing (even though he knows why he couldn't), to ask how Harry's really been all these years--

And then the train stops, and all the lamps go out.

Remus's first priority is to make sure none of the kids were hurt in the abrupt stop, a handful of pale witchfire dancing in his palm for light as he checks them over for injuries-- he tells them all to sit and remain calm, and goes to the compartment door and cancels the sealing-spell to investigate what has stalled the train-- 

The cold washes over him as soon as he has opened the door. The dementor hovers before him as though it has been waiting all along, each of its horrible rattling breaths sucking all life and happiness and hope from the air.

But Remus has spent the last twelve years in a pit of despair and regret and self-loathing; there is nothing left that it can hurt him with.

 _Sirius was framed, and you knew; you must have known because you're in our heads and you kept him anyway_ , he thinks (remembering Sirius's laughter and kindness and warmth, Sirius's profound loyalty and love) and his defiance leaps from his wand-tip in the form of a snarling wolf, the patronus-light coincidentally the same pale silvery-white as the moon (he hadn't meant to conjure a full corporeal patronus, not where his wolf might be seen, but he's too angry to care). The patronus is described as a protector, a guardian, something noble and 'pure'-- but magic is no more or less than intent given form, and the thought at the forefront of Remus's mind is _go buggering fuck yourself_. His Wolf has Teeth, and they sink into the dementor's not-flesh; it slithers away and the Wolf chases after it, tearing at its dark shroud. _You Cannot Have Him_.

The lamps stutter and flicker back to life, and the train begins to move once again. Remus returns to the compartment and revives Harry, and pulls a bar of chocolate from his pocket to split into thirds for the kids (he ignores Pettigrew, still unconscious but now covered in cold sweat and whimpering miserably-- he evidently could have used some of the chocolate too, but Remus honestly does not give a fuck). He conjures cups and fills them with fresh water, and promises to answer their questions (mostly Hermione's, he expects) once they have recovered a bit.

Remus should go speak to the driver, send a message ahead to Dumbledore. He stays sat next to Harry on the floor instead, and explains gently that dementors are the guards of Azkaban, sent to hunt down Sirius (he doesn't mention that they have no intention of taking Sirius _back_ \-- they have been commanded to use the Kiss, to erase everything that he is forever-- they don't care that he's innocent, only that he was given to them and he got away). He explains that it is normal to feel this way, that there is nothing shameful about passing out when faced with dementors, that this merely means Harry has experienced more horrors than most, that it is a sign of strength and not weakness-- and he swallows his rage, that Harry has been subjected to so much pain and trauma at the young age of thirteen that being forced to relive it all at once is entirely too terrible to even remain conscious for.

There _will_ be some Strong Words had with Albus Dumbledore. The old man had promised Remus that Harry was _safe_ , which was obviously a fat load of rubbish. Remus is through with taking this shit lying down.

Once he's seen the kids safely off the train and onto one if the thestral-drawn carriages (with a Patronus sent up to the school to explain what happened and why he will be late) Remus kneels beside Peter, then casts the most delicate of memory charms, erasing only select threads with surgical precision-- his own lycanthropy, Sirius and James becoming animagi alongside Peter, the _incident_ with Snape (which Peter evidently blames Sirius for, though they had all taken part and Peter certainly hadn't cared enough to defend Snape at the time). It's a lot to make someone forget, and will likely have a negative impact upon his mind, but Remus _won't_ have Peter outing them-- especially not Sirius, who will need all the help he can get just to have people listen to him, and being exposed as an unregistered animagus could easily be the thing that turns the courts against him.

It's a great injustice that they've all been served, and it won't be easy to turn things around-- but Remus Lupin will not rest until he has made things right.

**Author's Note:**

> come chat with me on [tumblr](https://dusk-writes.tumblr.com/)!


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